Her golden cross jangles against the heavy silver key, both hanging around her neck on a chain. The noise echoes into the night. The tunnel is pitch black and the walls are moist. Rodents scuttle across the ground.

In the distance, she can see a small beam of moonlight spilling into the tunnel, pooling like milk on the floor. She heads towards it. The key presses onto her chest, the weight heavy but necessary over her heart. It is the reminder of him.

Her breathing is hard and the only sound in the tunnel. The only sound except...footsteps? Following her. Her breath catches in her throat and she spins, her skirt twirling wildly around her bloody legs. The footsteps are uneven, scuffing and slipping. Her heart pumps blood like fire though her veins, never stopping to catch a breath. Her fingers shake and her knees lock.

She fears dying. Her mind tumbles. What will they tell her mother? What will happen to him? She brings her cross to her lips and kisses her only wisps of hope, praying to her savior.

The footsteps are dangerously close, she can hear him breathing. It’s him. He has come to kill her and she knows it. She can feel it in her bones. The key on her neck presses harder, weighing her down, plastering her feet to the concrete. He holds her in place.

She waits for death now. She wants it. She is ready for her cross to lift her to heaven. Somehow though, she feels as though his key will drag her straight to h*ll. She fears she has no choice but to rip the key off of her neck. The key to h*ll, dangling and clinking against the key to heaven.

She keeps her eyes in the direction of the footsteps but slowly, ever so slowly drags her feet backwards, towards the pool of moonlight. In her head, she makes a plan. With trembling fingers she slips the key off her chain. She holds it, warm in her palm to use as a weapon if it comes to that.

She will not let him drag her to h*ll. She will not die. Not tonight. She is only a few feet from the hole now. The ceiling is low and she could easily pull herself up and out of the hole, into the night. He is close. Too close.

In a split second she turns, looks up, and grabs the edges of the hole. All she can see is the moon. The key digs into her palm, making her bleed, her white dress completely stained with blood. As she hoists herself up, into freedom, her necklace-still capturing the cross- gets caught.

The rips off, and she sees it go flying onto the sidewalk just out of reach. As she shoots out one hand to grab it, she feels a calloused hand wrap around her left ankle and yank. She loses her balance, and blindly falls back into the hole.

The key is still stabbing her hand, and she falls to her knees. He stands over her, grinning evilly. He speaks to her, but she doesn’t hear him. Her ears are ringing. The last image in her mind will be of him, right before he kills her.

The face of h*ll, smiling down at her in this wet tunnel, her cross stranded above her in the street. All her determination is above her now, with her cross. All her hope is gone. Chin up, she looks straight into the face of her own personal devil, and waits for death, the key pressing into her palm, waiting to unlock the burning gates of h*ll.

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